Invictus
Out of the
night that covers me,
Black as
the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank
whatever gods may be
For my
unconquerable soul.
In the fell
clutch of circumstance
I have not
winced nor cried aloud.
Under the
bludgeonings of chance
My head is
bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this
place of wrath and tears
Looms but
the Horror of the shade,
And yet the
menace of the years
Finds, and
shall find, me unafraid.
It matters
not how strait the gate,
How charged
with punishments the scroll.
I am the
master of my fate:
I am the
captain of my soul.
William Ernest Henley
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